Protect and Preserve
by The All Mother
Summary: He remembers a friend from another time when he was alone again. A friend who protected many without judgement and without reward. They offered their hand without ever expecting a thank you. Sometimes Cole wished he had thanked them before, before leaving without realizing they might never meet again.
1. Cole: Lost

Lips rough from the cold. Throat cracked from shouting at the lazy guards. Mouth dry cause he didn't plan on kissing me. We both were surprised.

The kiss was quick, firm. It almost hurt. He wanted to see me naked. He thought of me naked. He was a strange human. His thoughts were so much clearer then the others. I saw his hurt but also his curiosity.

I hadn't been paying attention when he appeared next to me. Before I could speak he simply pressed his lips against mine. Eyes closed, hoping it was all in his head. The cold was just getting to him. He knew it wasn't.

His red and golden robes kept he warm. Warmer then most could afford. He had much coin but he didn't care if others only saw that in him. He didn't care that others wanted to hurt him for his robes. For how some of the women looked at him. Lust. The gauntlets and armor he wore over his robes kept him safe. Pride. He knew they would come. Tevinter. A non-mage but they thought differently. He knew this and used it to keep them away.

All he cared about at this moment was confirming my existence. Single thoughts, single wonders. Had I seen him before? I do not recall. He is new to the camp. Maybe I'm new to the camp. The days are hard to count. The sun never staying put.

_What is his name?_ He wondered as he pulled away from me.

"Cole. My name is Cole." I couldn't back away or else I'd fall onto the tent behind me.

He was till so close to me. His warmth felt strange. Odd. Almost too warm. I couldn't find his name. He never thought of himself.

A flicker of knowledge flashed in his eyes. He knew. A soft reassuring sigh escaped his lips before he spoke, "So you are real?".

The red burned across his face. He knew. He just thought I was something in his mind. Something not real. Imagination playing tricks. But now he knew I wasn't in his head. Not something you see that's there but shouldn't be and isn't. I'm real to his touch, to his lips. He feels like a foul.

"Of course I am real." I shrugged my shoulders quickly as I adjusted my weight across my feet.

A grin played across his face, an after thought. "What does this mean?"

Before I could ask him what he meant, he turned around and simply walked away. His thoughts suddenly locked away. A blur in the distance.

There was no time to wander after him. Some one else in camp need help. A little girl. She was lost again. She was always getting lost. The camp was always changing.

Crowded tents and fire pits littered the landscape for a mile. For them, it seemed a hassle to walk through. I liked seeing how everyone rested. How they tied their horses to the makeshift posts or threw their blankets down on the wet grass we now traveled on.

The camp formed out of necessity. The templars and the mages had brought war to so many villages. Fires that engulfed many. Flames licked at everyone's dreams. Orlais had no place to offer many. Maybe Feralden would be better. Everyone hoped so.

Tired. So many were tired. Soon they would be at rest for the sun was slowing laying down to rest as well. The women hoped the moonlight would keep them safe. I tried to keep so many safe. Sooth their fears. Ease their burdens. The little old lady was so grateful when I carried her back to her tent this morning. So happy.

I found her by the stranger's camp again. I never saw him but his feelings lingered everywhere. She followed him too often. Hoping maybe being with him was enough to bring him back. She was never hurt just scared. He made her feel safe but he wasn't in the tent again. Hunting. _Children need the food._

"I lost him again." Her soft blue eye pleaded no. She wiped the lone tear from her right eye.

She wanted to cry again. Angry. Why did he leave mommy behind? Confused. Why did she have to stay with Auntie Sam and her children? Eight years of age almost nine, she felt like a baby. I kneeled beside her as I had done for the past three days. She just wanted to be with her father.

"His heart is heavy with grief. He doesn't know it hurts you as well."

I offer my hand in comfort. Silently she takes it. We both know she is safer with her aunt.

"He will come back to you when he no longer carries the sorrow."  
>"But why is he sad?"<p>

I've spoken to her before. I tried my best to answer her questions. Confused. Confusing. My words never came out right. It bothered me.

We wandered around tents. Small, large and areas that were just bedrolls on the soggy grass. Her aunt always camped near the little stream we had been following. She liked to keep the children clean.

"He doesn't understand the world right now. You dad. He still loves you Mary. He just needs to think for a few more days."

Those were the right words to say. I saw it change in her eyes. She smiled. Now she understood a bit better. She didn't hurt as much anymore. Her father would be her father again in a few days. Just give him time.

I offered my own smile in return. I pushed her tight brown ringlets out of her eyes. It was better this way.

"Forget."

Softly spoken so she wouldn't be startled. I saw me disappear from her eyes. A ghost she couldn't see. I backed away slowly as she turned and happily wondered back to her aunt. Sam was always concerned for her niece but it wasn't time to explain what had happened. _The children are too young to understand war._

The sun as close to setting. Peeking over the mountains one last time to ensure everyone was back. I'll stay by the stream to make sure their safe.


	2. Marcuis: Prick

Right knee aching and back stiff from riding the damn horse all day. The sun peeked over the mountain ridges one last time before descending into a brief slumber. Far too happy to be back in Orlais after what seemed like a lifetime. Even if I preferred the chance to be here were under better conditions. All this time I was gone, it was almost like nothing had changed. Same old game all the nobles liked to play, always gave me a headache.

Fuck, what was an old chevalier like me to do? I retired from the madness the moment I pledge myself to the house Junia of Tevintor.

It didn't matter now. All that matter was before me. A tent and this small fire I was trying to keep alive. It had been hours since I last seen that damn son of mine. Andraste's breath, where did he get off to? Probably looking at the other boys again, bad habit that cause us more trouble then what it was worth. Think that fucker would have learned by now.

The mountains lapped up the last rays of the sun and soon enough night was upon us. The boys would soon begin their patrols around the camp. Had to keep them busy or else they'd be causing trouble they didn't mean to. Boys. Never thought with the right head. Of course they now knew better now. My boy had taught them better. Good lad always wanting others to be better then themselves.

Maybe it wasn't him, could be me and the old chevalier stuff I had taught him. It doesn't matter, he is a better person that Tevinter junk we witnessed back in Minrathous. No point on dwelling on it now. He's a young and foolish lad, hoping for the good in everyone. He'll learn soon or later, hopeful sooner.

The night patrol was ready and standing by my tent as I sat there turning the fire over. Maybe that fucking lad would finally bring back more wood for the fire. Bastard always forgot the wood. I'll probably have to send one of the other boys to fetch it. They seemed to remember the rules of being apart of Drakes better then my own.

Any man or woman could help out.  
>Must be able to wield a sword and shield. Completely required.<br>Must be of fighting age. Sixteen to forty years.  
>No rape. No unnecessary kills.<br>No stealing.  
>Follow my orders.<br>Brutus is my second in command.  
>Brutus must be back in camp before the night patrols started.<p>

Those were the rules that never changed. They were simple, easy to remember. Of course there were so many more rules that came and went. It depended on the situation, on the person. Some of them knew better, some still needed to be taught. In the end they were all willing to train. Willing to take orders from me, an old chevalier and from Brutus, some Tevintor son of mine. It took a while but eventually they warmed up to him. They showed him more respect the longer we traveled the camp. Showed him more respect when Brutus realize they thought they could push him around. Thought he was going to be a push over. Boy did he show them wrong.

He scraped with almost all twelve of them. They all challenged him in turn, day by day. They all lost in turn. He didn't turn any of them down and that unsettled the bunch who wanted to wipe the dirty with his blood.

The rules Brutus set down were simply.

No weapons  
>No armor<br>No magic

He wore his robes that day too and so did the boys. Shirts already dirty and old from roaming the lands for weeks. They didn't really care what scars Brutus may have hid underneath those crimson layers. All they wanted to do was prove they were better then him. They were free men, non-mages unbound by Tevintor laws. They never did believe he wasn't a mage.

Soon enough dinner was being cooked over the fire. An hour past sunset, the patrols were gonna be late tonight but what the fuck did I care? I only created the Drakes to keep the camp quieter at nights. We weren't being paid to do this, any of it. Justice offered itself into our hands as we traveled. The people began to rely on us for their affairs. It was nice to be wanted again. To be needed. To help even if it was an awkward help.

Enough with those thoughts. Tonight I would feast on a rabbit. The little bugger was an easy kill this morning. He was brown furred, dark eyed, dead the moment he was noticed. Maybe there was enough meat on him for breakfast tomorrow, maybe.

"Damien!" Smart boy. He always knew where to find that bastard of mine.

Short for his age. Dwarf father with a human mother, it any of it mattered. He was a good lad. Follows the rules, respected Brutus and I. He was the only one smart enough not to pick a fight with Brutus. He defiantly had wits.

"Yes sir!" Dressed in dark leathers, hard to spot. Quick learner.  
>"Go and find Brutus."<br>"He's right behind you sir!"

And the lad was right. That little bastard always knew when to be back in time. He never liked people looking for him. That snake.

"Get started on the patrols then! Lazy louts!"

I checked the rabbit one more time before I bother looking at him. It was almost done. I really should give that son of mine a good lecturing before eating but what will I say that I haven't already said before. I watch as the night patrol finally start their routes. Six men, two by two they disappear into the night in all directions. Unoffically, we are the guards. Makeshift bunch but better then what real guards would do.

"Where have you been?" I watch as the last two men disappear behind a tent.

I turned to see him standing on the other side of the fire facing me. Lost in thought once more. The fire made him appear lighter skinned then he really was. His eyes greener then they really were.

"Taking a walk around camp when I spotted lad," He shrugged his shoulders. Not that important but another guard we were always looking for. "Blonde hair, blue eyes. Orliasn or Frealden I think."  
>"Finally found someone to fancy?"<br>"I kissed him, so maybe?"

The news that Brutus had kissed someone else was shocking. The boy never fancied anyone. No girls, no boys that I ever knew of. Good for him.

"Invite him back to the tent?" The smile was hard to roll of my face. "Finally found some prick to stab you?"

He simply smiled a soft smile. Broken and not fully there. Thoughts, he was always lost in some thought. It didn't matter, he was still in trouble for being so damn late.

"You know these lads have been waiting since sunset to leave."  
>"They could have gone."<br>"They know the rules and so should you."

The fire picked up the colour of his robes and made them so much brighter. The crimson looked like blood with the gold trim had to even look at. His refusal to dress differently made me worry so much more for him. We left Tevintor nearly three months ago.

We should dress like the people I had suggested one evening. Brutus refused. He didn't like Orlais fashion, his reasoning. Of course I knew the real one. Not enough layers to hide beneath, too risky. He rathered everyone hate him for being Tevintor then what his clothes hid.

"I didn't make the rules though. You did." His voice was grim, hurt.

He knew damn well why I had to make the rules. I was getting to old to protect him and he knew no one else in this strange land would.


	3. Cole: Bowl

Dawn had found the world once more. All around me dreams starting and ending all around me. Some so lost within themselves. It was like a unescapeable fire that licked at their toes. Fear, longing and happiness all mixing together in the cold dawn air. The tents were crowded together, barely enough room for me to sit between them. Where I sat didn't give me a good view of the rest of the camp, only Sam's tent. The children had slept well last night. Finally getting use to the torn earth that surrounded them. Beaten soft from those who passed by earlier. Before they had settled and marked the land as their's for the night. Tender from the water that they rested near.

_Sadness. Pain from the past. Memories old with an even older anger clinging to them._ Someone was hurting. Distant but not beyond my reach. It was time once more to help. For with the dawn came the hurt. People were safer in their dreams. Quiet and still. With the waking world brought back all the pain, all the memories and what might have been. It was strange to know how easily people found peace in their dreams. It scared me.

_Broken, beaten._ The pain was like a fire. _Swollen, swelling. Sore from the cold. _This hurt echoed the loudest.

I found myself by the healers. The wounded and sick. Every time the sun rose anew another sought the healers. Old women with blood stained hands. Ancient ways that they believed worked. But there was a young woman there. Her mind a blaze with new ideas. _Books filled with new knowledge. Her knowledge worked more then the old crones._

I watched in silence as she worked. Pouring the soothing water for thirsty mouths. Breaking the bread for hungry bellies. It was morning, breakfast would be soon upon the camp.

The hurt came from a solider. _Waiting, wondering where the lad went. Gone again? _He laid on the cot with his eyes shut. Waiting for a friend to return. Maybe they would this time. _Guards._

His face withered from a lifetime of hurt. Misfortune. Losing all that he held dear. The stubble was growing in, he wanted it gone again but no energy to do so. A burn scared his face. Fresh but months old. _Save the boys. _The memories were lightning in his ears. Scaring him, making the hurt worse.

"I can help." I whispered beside him.

He cracked his eyes open slowly. "Finally back?" He asked as he turned to face me.

His vision blurred. Distant. He didn't mind seeing me. _Messy straw hair, eyes the color of a clear sky. _He smiled. He hoped I had been someone else.

"Where are you from?" He turned back to look at the tent's ceiling. He didn't mind.

"Ferelden. You are hurting."

Weakly he shook his head. Talking drew so much energy. The wound one his side needed new wrappings. His thoughts were screaming.

_Son be careful. I will be. Be back before dawn. Take the horse. He wasn't back then the whole village was in flames. Like a dragon had been descended upon them. Mages. Son lost. Found face down in the river below._

"You couldn't save him." He doesn't react. "He wouldn't have made it back before dawn. A girl lied to him. He was heartbroken."

"You don't know that." He said through gritted teeth.

He knew it was the truth. The boy, the son was in love. He planned to leave.

"I can make the pain stop."

I had sharped the blade nights ago. It wasn't used as offered as those begged me to use it. Too many to help. So much to take.

"What are you doing?" The voice is familiar. Days old. New. Startled, both of us look to the voice.

The blade is away. Hidden but I am not. How can he see me? Crimson robes. Gold trimmings. A kiss shared to confirm reality. It was him.

Familiar thoughts of the stranger echoed in my mind. He was thinking of me again. _Lip chilled. The warmth had left some time ago. Thin with dirty leathers._ He didn't like my clothes. Offerings. _New clothes and a tent._ He wanted to help me. _Strange, stranger, strangest. What was his name? Cole._ He remembered. _Messy hair. He needed a hat._

His thoughts were suddenly in my head. Crisp, clear. They didn't echo into others. Like thunder as a storm rolled in. Thoughts that didn't bleed into other thoughts. They always did. Bleed next to an old one or into a new one. A scratch you can't get cause its in you. In the dry throat. On the top of your mouth.

"He's just chatting with a dead old man, Brutus." He waves the younger man away.

"Well if he's gonna chat you up, he can feed you too."

The bowl is wooden, warm. I feel the hunger stir in the soldier's belly. Brutus eyes me with suspicion. He knows I remember. He wants to leave but this is his friend. _Won't leave cause some the strange boy showed_ up. The bowl slips into my hands. Warm.

Brutus snatches spare pillows from the empty cots. _Used and in disuse._ Gently he places them under the soldier's head. Easier to swallow.

"Thank you." The soldier whispers to Brutus. Prideful but so very thankful. "Tell that old fool Marcius he better see me off, any day now."

A smile breaks across Brutus' face. He was waiting for those words. _Inspire. _"Arthur, you aren't dying anytime soon. Too many stories you have left to tell me."

The words touched Arthur. Whispered a thousand times to so many friends. Heroes. Ancient words that always worked. Deep down, somewhere I can't go. Similar to words I will whisper. Not as sweet as my words. _Inspire. Inspire. Hope._

"A world to change." Arthur replies. How often had Brutus whispered those words in his ears now? Everyday since the bandits attack. Almost week now.

"Feed him proper," Brutus said to me in a hard tone. No trust yet. Still unsure about me. "I'll grab Iris for you Arthur."

Off he wandered. That girl was never too far off. She liked Brutus. Liked how safe she felt near him. He was stronger then the river. I should make him forget me. I needed to be whispers to them again. A memory too old and out of place. It bothered me how Brutus remembered me.

The warmth in my hands were nice. Sweet. I liked the smell.

"Pass me the bowl." Arthur demanded as I sat on the ground beside him. More prideful now that Brutus was gone. "I can feed myself."

A quiet lie he had said since the first night. His arms were too sore, not stretched in over a week. He could barely move them in the first place.

"I'll help." He didn't protest. The healers had forced him to let them help as well. Arguments didn't help. Only made him grow tired.

The first spoonful was too much. Almost choking. Too thoughtful to say anything. He wanted it to be done. Soon enough it was proper size. Easier to chew and swallow. When he was done, he took my hand.

"Thank you."


End file.
